


New Arrival

by LizLuvsCupcakes



Series: An Infinitesimal Prince AU [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Family Dynamics, Multi, Platonic DRLAMP - Freeform, Platonic Relationships, baby au, stimming mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:55:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27039805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizLuvsCupcakes/pseuds/LizLuvsCupcakes
Summary: Thomas Sanders had not been a creative person, until discovering that he enjoyed acting, performing and, well, creating in the form of videos. Now that he’s accepted his first major callback, a new side has appeared who will change everything in ways no one is expecting.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Dark Creativity | Remus & Deceit | Janus & Morality | Patton & Thomas Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Everyone, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, morality | patton sanders & dark creativity | remus sanders
Series: An Infinitesimal Prince AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1973500
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40





	New Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome everyone! This fic will NOT be in line with my other series, the “Remus Finds a FamILY” series. This series will be soft and warm and nice and exactly what it doesn’t feel like to be alive right now! This will be the cuddling corner, that will be the corner where we cry! Please, join me in the cuddling corner, grab a snack and a grown up, be warned of general baby stuff and sibling dynamics ahead, and let’s have fun. Welcome once again!

Dream duty was truly Remus’s favourite activity. 

Really, all it involved was locking himself in his room, sitting under a ceiling mounted microphone in a side room, and babbling whatever he could think of into it as shapes, swirls, colours and scenes swirled all around him. Sometimes he constructed stories so intricate and detailed even he was surprised. And sometimes it was just an endless stream of word salad into the thing as figures swirled all around him. Sometimes, he'd even whip up a nightmare in which he'd scream endlessly into the thing while beasts lashed out at him. 

He absolutely loved it. 

It had been great fun in the past, since he could just spew nonsense with the confidence that anything he’d make would be very weird, but promptly forgotten. But since Thomas had become more of an active participant in his own imagination, he not only had much more material to work with, but the material he made ended up being far more consequential. A concept he made in a dream could easily be put into a video or a skit, or even a story. And every time that happened, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of pride in his chest that put jitters in his fingers. 

But then again, he'd been wiggling his fingers and bouncing on his feet a lot lately. 

Thomas had, after all, had a fantastic week. He had successfully landed his first ever proper acting job, one that would give him very decent pay, and been able to negotiate the situation with the two friends and their wedding thing, whatever, that was boring, and Dee had played cards with him the whole time Patty-Pat, Lo-Lo and Virgin hammered that one out. 

But that one, in the end, had come up for him and Remus, after 3 hours of deliberation. In fact, all things seemed to be coming up Remus- in fact, they were coming up Creativity in general. Thomas had never been a very creative guy, had never really gotten into cartoons and stuff or even been a very imaginative person. But since Vine, and this YouTube thing, Thomas had gotten far more into Remus’s side of the mindscape. It was so thrilling!

However, Thomas wasn’t much of a match for him creatively speaking. For someone who claimed to prefer salty flavours, his videos and overall tastes were rather saccharine. Regardless, Remus played the hand he was dealt, didn’t complain when his ideas were adjusted for Thomas’s tastes, because it wasn’t his fault he was still discovering them. He would’ve much rather have Thomas gravitate toward Adam Winegard or Tobe Hooper than Disney or Rebecca Sugar, but he took the material he was given and did what he could. 

No, he reflected as he stood up from his scream room and went to get some water, Thomas couldn’t control where the inspiration was going and neither could he. Granted, he’d have rathered Thomas prefer something a bit edgier than Tim Burton. But, he resigned himself as he filled a glass in the bathroom, Thomas had given horror movies his best shot and they gave him nightmares. It had taken weeks for him to scream himself hoarse. They had tried their hand at compromise, but it seemed that the creativity Thomas had and the person he was just weren't a great match. They'd just have to work with what they-

Wait, was that door always there?

Remus stumbled on the way back to his room, staring at a blank spot on the wall that had always been a blank spot, until right now it seemed. 

Now it played host to a grand, ornate, bright red door, with gold trim around the white molding, and a glistening golden mount where a handle ought to be. Beside the door was a placard, much in the same vein that there was a placard next to everyone else’s door. Everyone had a little thing shaped like their logo, with their title and their function stenciled onto it (the teacher, the heart, the duke, the snake, and so on). No one, not even Logan knew where it came from.

This one was… weird. It was shaped like some kind of shield with a very intricate pattern, and in the centre of the sun above the castle (barf) were stenciled the words,  _ “Creativity: The Prince _ .”

Remus didn’t like this. He couldn’t stand mystery and intrigue, especially when it came to Thomas, he liked being completely in control of situations at any given time, and this prince guy had the audacity to just show up in the middle of the goddamn night? Oh, nosirreebob, Remus would not have it. But he couldn’t get into the room.

He needed reinforcements. 

He drew a deep breath and screamed. 

**_“TURTLES TURTLES FLYING THROUGH THE SUN CANADA WON’T EXPLAIN THE HOUSE IS NOT OF THIS EARTH BUTTERED FINE NO NO PUMPKIN COLOUR NOT ON TOP POTATO BASKET UMBRELLA TIME IS MADE OF PIGS-!!!”_ **

Doors flew open one at a time. Patton first, then Logan, then Double Dicks, then Emo Pear, all in various states of sleepy disarray. 

Yawning, Patton spoke first. “Wh-wha-what’s goin’ on, kiddo?” 

“This’d better be important,” muttered Jay-Jay, pulling the sleep mask off of his eyes. 

“It’s Remus- it’s not,” Logan grumbled, groping blindly as he fumbled with his glasses. 

Virgil made a noise that might have been a threat, but might have just been him whining. 

Remus ignored the general grumpiness. “Look! There’s a new guy!” He said brightly, pointing to his discovery. 

Logan perked up immediately. “What?” He pushed his way to the front of the crowd to stand next to Remus. 

“I was doing dream stuff and I went to get water and I looked and there was a new door. That means there’s a new side, right?”

All sleepiness was forgotten as everyone crowded around, leaving Remus to shuffle to safety ( _ tooclosetooclosetooclosegetawaystopit _ ). 

“Well- theoretically,” agreed Logan, looking as shocked and confused as everyone else. “But, that doesn’t make any sense; Thomas has finished his development as a person, shouldn’t everyone be here already?”

“Now, kiddo, you of all people should know nobody’s ever done growing,” Patton chided through a yawn. “Any idea who’s back there, Remus?”

“The sign says it’s a prince!”

“A prince?” Patton rubbed an eye and looked at the sign. “Well, he must need his beauty sleep.”

“I'm going back to bed.” Double Dicks slid his mask back over his eyes. “Wake me when he comes out, we clearly have work to do.”

“Why’s that?”

“If he’s creativity, we’ll need him for the callback.”

There was silence. Janus pulled the mask up one more time and glared at them reproachfully. 

“The callback is  _ three days  _ from now.”

“Really? That soon?”

“ _ Yes, _ Patton, and frankly, having someone to rehearse with one last time who takes this as seriously as I do will be very comforting.”

“Aw, kiddo, we all take this just as seriously as we do.”

“Yeah, I’ve been kicking into overdrive for the past month,” complained Virgil, causing Janus’s gaze to soften a bit. 

“I know you have, my little spiderling. And,” he knelt down in front of Virgil, tilting his chin up to look at him. “Dearest, you didn’t go to bed in your makeup, did you?”

“... technically no. But I  _ have  _ been in bed.”

“You know lying in bed looking at your phone doesn’t count.” He took off the mask and slid it into his pocket. With a click of his fingers, Virgil was in a plain black tank and purple plaid pyjama pants. “Come on, you’re coming with me.”

With that, he straightened up and led Virgil by the arm into his room. Virgil cast a desperate look around at the others, as though pleading for someone to save him, but frankly, they were all just grateful deceit hadn’t picked one of them as his target. Virgil, as Thomas’s 12-year-old self and the baby of their little family, was usually the easiest to throw on the self preservation pyre, but occasionally 14 year old Remus or 17 year old Logan fell under the analytical gaze of Janus with hair that hadn’t been combed, washed or made behave in 9 days or a raging fever wrapped around a sweltering migraine like the world's least comfortable blanket. 

“We should all return to bed,” said Logan, turning back to his room. 

“Okay, night night! Sleep tight! Don’t let the shape-shifting robot slice off your face and steal it!” He waves like a southern belle seeing her doomed lover off to a war to defend the right to own slaves. 

“You too, Squiddo.” Patton patted his shoulder and patiently smiled at his pal. 

Remus felt the smile drop off his face and shatter on the floor. “But dreams!” He protested. 

“Thomas has had more than enough dreams. Sleep time now.” 

Remus whined and did his best to deadweight Patton as he was lugged into his room, but he was kidding himself. He was… tired. So, so tired. Performing a private podcast for one for hours on end would do that to you.

Patton changed him into his pyjamas with a snap and ushering Remus under his covers, among his large collection of stuffed animals. There was a cold, damp, sharp-smelling swipe on his face as a makeup wipe took off his makeup and a soft tugging as his fake moustache came away. 

“I love you, Remus,” Patton murmured, pressing a brief kiss into his mop of unruly curls. 

“L’v y’, dad,” the Duke muttered back as he slipped into the arms of Morpheus. An affirmation of love safe from the prying eyes and curious ears of the others, just between them, which meant it was protected, and therefore all right. 

The last thing Remus was aware of was the weight on his bed shifting as he cuddled his oldest, most well-worn bear to his chest. 

~~~

Sleep found Patton easily, as it usually did, but he woke as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning. He even woke far earlier than he usually did, around six in the morning when he checked the dog-shaped analog clock on his bedside table, but… hm… it took him a second to remember why he was so excited and intrigued. 

Then last night came rushing back to him. Remus. The door.  _ A new side.  _

He jumped out of bed and ran out, back to the red door, which was, sure enough, still there. The sign still declared its occupant to be the prince of creativity. The only difference was that now, on the left hand side of the door, was a glistening, ornate, golden doorknob with a keyhole beneath it. 

Patton tried turning the knob, but was only rewarded with a faint jiggle. He knelt down to peer through the keyhole, but apparently most media had lied to him and that yielded no results. 

Well, it looked like the prince just still wasn’t camera ready yet. Which gave Patton time to prepare for him. 

He thought for a moment. It had been a long time since he’d done this. The last new side that had popped up had been Virgil, and he’d been immediately snatched up by Janus for a whole year. Granted he’d returned, but he still refused to talk about the first stages of the boys development. But luckily, he remembered the one thing he’d been able to do for Virgil, Janus and Remus, even  _ him  _ before that one agonizing year that they were gone from his arms. 

The father figure figment dashed downstairs and whipped up a batch of muffins for the famILY (grateful now more than ever Thomas knew how to cook), stimming and pacing around the mindscape as the heavenly baking smells wafted around. Everyone stayed miraculously asleep (Virgil and Janus curled up in the liar’s bed together, the tiny emo’s head curled into his moms chest) until finally the timer dinged. Patton eagerly arranged them on a plate and stuffed one into his mouth before returning to his room, where he retrieved his sewing box. 

It was an odd ritual, he’d give it that. But the first thing he’d done when the door labeled “the snake” that proclaimed its occupant to be Deceit had opened was to make his first ever plushy. The little black-clad side had been so inwardly withdrawn and shied away from Patton so much, all he could think to do was give him a companion he was sure he could trust. And even now, he still had the little stuffed, yellow snake in his room (it was the easiest thing to make).

It was a good call on Patton’s part, according to Logan (who still slept with the stuffed unicorn Patton had made him). Comfort objects helped children develop in the real world all the time; there was no reason they shouldn’t help children made of imagination. 

He considered all his patterns, all his past successes with this little ritual (Virgil’s spider and Remus’s bear) and even smiled a little as he recalled the times he’d caught his kiddos talking to the friends they’d had since the day they’d walked out of their doors, and claimed they had long since moved on from. After ages, he finally made up his mind. 

He picked up his scissors, a handful of rags, and set to work.

* * *

By the time Patton had finished his project, the others were slowly shuffling out of their rooms, rubbing sleep from their eyes. 

Logan was completely certain the prince would come striding out when he was good and ready. Nothing could convince him he was not going to be another version of Thomas, essentially Thomas wearing a costume. 

“It just makes logical sense. We were all children when Thomas was a child. He will be an adult because Thomas is an adult.”

“A very convincing argument, teach, but I’m still gonna give him his present,” Patton said patiently. 

“Why on earth would a reigning monarch want a ragdoll rabbit?”

“To keep the nightmares away!”

“Nightmares are vividly realistic, disturbing and often frightening dreams that occur during REM sleep, how is an anthropomorphized piece of fabric going to keep them away? It just isn’t logical.”

Patton stood to refill his coffee mug, whispering as he passed so only Logan would hear him say, “tell that to Isabella.” And here, Logan flushed and accepted he’d lost that particular argument, but maintained his insistence that the prince of creativity would emerge when he was ready. 

When they’d finished theorizing and eating at eight, the door still hadn’t opened. 

They waited until ten, and it remained still. Virgil swore he heard something. Logan assured him it was probably nothing and reminded him that he had emerged near dinner time when he had first appeared. 

Something didn’t feel right. 

By noon, everyone was antsy. Virgilhad called out to the resident inside the room, asking if he was planning on helping Deceit rehearse for the callback. Logan rapped smartly several times. Remus stood outside it and screamed. Patton did his best to keep them away but eventually, the two oldest sides spared hesitant glances at each other. Even Virgil had peeked out of the door once or twice. Why on earth would a Prince be shy?

By two, all three of the younger sides were crowded around the door. 

“Hey! Prince-dude!” Virgil yelled. “You’re not alone in here! Care to grace us with your presence?”

Remus growled. “Panic at the Everywhere, you’ve been yelling for fifteen minutes, I don’t think he’s gonna open the door.”

Virgil tried the handle again, and it remained locked. 

“How would the door have been unlocked within the span of the five minutes of the last time you tried?” Logan asked in a clipped voice. 

“You got a better idea?”

“I’m getting my Thing.”

“The presence of your Thing has been forbidden in the house.”

“I feel like locked prince doors are the exception to the rule, Specs.”

“They aren’t.”

The three of them jolted and backed away from Janus, who stared at them with a mix of bemusement and humour. “Boys, why don’t you all go to your things and let me take a crack at it?”

“You’ve expressed unwillingness to use your lockpicking skills on our doors.”

“There are occasionally exceptions to rules.”

Remus made a noise like he was about to say something. 

“Not the ones that stop you from sneaking up on us with weapons.”

He deflated immediately. 

“Now. All of you, shoo.”

They did. Except for Virgil, who hesitated on his way back to his room, casting an uncertain glance back at Janus. 

“Yes?”

“I… I heard something in there,” he blurted. “Logan says I’m overreacting but  _ I heard something in there.” _

Janus raised an eyebrow. “What was it?”

“I dunno, it was kinda muffled.”

“Mimic it.”

“I-... it was kinda like,  _ ‘ee-eeee-eee-ee,’ _ like that, or maybe it was something else, like I said it’s muffled.”

Janus nodded. “Interesting. Why are you bringing this up?”

“It’s just… I dunno. Are we sure whoever’s in there is a clone of Thomas?”

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Remus and I were both toddlers, right?”

“Well, yes, but you were both less pronounced then. And now you’re-”

“And now we’re 12 and 14, and we only kinda look like him. Jan… is it possible we’re overestimating the prince a little?”

Janus considered. Then he chuckled. “Hoping for someone even younger than you, are we?”

Virgil blushed beneath his makeup. “It’s not like that. I’m just saying.”

“Not afraid he’ll usurp your position as my Little Reason Why?” Asked the deceitful side as he playfully tweaked Virgil’s nose. 

“Stooooop,” he whined, but he was trying not to smile. 

Gentle hands pinched the anxious child’s cheeks up to his cheekbones, forcing his face up, where he pressed their foreheads together, flesh against scales. 

“Try not to fret so much Virgil,” he muttered, squeezing the child. “Leave that you me and Patton.”

“Patton and I,” called Logan from his room, and Virgil turned bright pink. 

Janus rolled his eyes. “Off you go now. Back to your… whatever it is kids are into.”

“Stim toys.”

“Yes that.”

With that, Virgil returned to his room, significantly calmer, and Janus was finally free to return to rehearsing. 

When he was sure the coast was clear, Logan crept up to the door, pressing his ear to it. 

He knocked lightly this time. He didn’t demand, shout or shriek. He just spoke. “Hello in there? Anyone home?”

No answer. 

“They left you know. They won’t bother you. You can come-” his words stumbled to a stop. 

He heard something. 

He pressed his ear to the door. It was, as Virgil described, a high pitched, whining noise. Intercut with little… hiccuping sounds?

Was he crying?

Logan wasn’t good when people were crying. He was barely tolerable when  _ family  _ was crying. But he was downright terrible when strangers were crying, especially strangers who had been in the mindscape less than a day and were crying rather desperately and frantically and… and…

Hold on…

Something about the way it was crying was familiar. Logan had been the oldest of three other sides. 

Logan did something he wasn’t supposed to do; he summoned Janus’s lockpicks and set to work. It took five tries and an inordinate amount of under-your-breath cursing, but eventually-

_ Click.  _

The door swung open.

The sound was unmistakable now. And the room had the teacher’s guts sinking into his shoes. 

The room behind the door was not a grand palace, or even a princely bedroom. Instead, it was a room with red carpet and white walls with gold trim on the molding, matching the large, silky gold curtain over the U-shaped window by… 

“Ohh my,” breathed Logan.

The furniture in the room was not made for an adult. There was a red armchair and a white rocking chair, both of which were very squishy looking, but there was also a changing table. And a toy chest. And a white crib with a silk red canopy and gold dust skirt, from which the crying was coming. 

Logan knew what he was going to find when he saw the crib. But he still had to see. So he approached the crib. Past the luxurious stuffed lions and dogs that littered the floor. Past the needle-point portraits of dragons and unicorns on the walls. Past the mobile-like chandelier. 

Lying in the crib, on a was a baby, no older than a few months, whose face was tear-and-snot covered, lips pouty and quivering but otherwise very cute. Massive, brown eyes with gold flecks and round, soft cheeks, wearing white socks, a (presumably full) diaper and a white plastic bracelet. A mound of messy, wavy curls cascaded in a thick pile on the child’s head. It looked up at Logan and he was immediately reminded of how loud they’d been. How much they must have scared this little guy. 

He was also very aware of the smell wafting up from the child. It kicked its feet and squirmed, whining as it stared at Logan. 

He needed to pick it up, he knew this. He was aware of the process of changing a diaper, as unpleasant as it was. Clothes could wait, he decided, as he uncomfortably and stiffly gripped his fingers onto the baby and picked it up, holding it at arm's length. 

“I-” he swallowed, feeling ridiculous for speaking to a creature that couldn’t understand him. “I need to change you now. I will then take you to the others.”

Of course, it said nothing. It continued to squirm and whine as he held it. Even at arm’s length, Logan could smell it. 

“... on second thought,” he said after a moment of consideration, “perhaps I need help with this.”

With that, he carried Thomas’s creativity out of the room. 

He himself didn’t know himself where he was carrying the child, but thankfully he was spared that particular dilemma as the snake’s door flew open. 

“Okay, who’s got my lockpi-?”

“Thomas’s creativity is a baby.”

“What?” Deceit’s rage was immediately replaced with confusion. 

Logan turned around, turned said baby to face him and it was clear within a second that Janus’s heart was under new management. 

“Ohh. Hi,” Janus crooned, reaching for the baby and caressing its face. One of the tiny, chubby fists took hold of his hand and put it in its mouth. “Hi. Hey, it’s okay little prince.”

“ _ This _ is the new side?” Logan whispered, half confused and half affronted. 

“How long have you been in there in the dark, huh? Why was your door locked? We couldn’t get to you.”

Logan looked at the snake with an eyebrow raised. Janus glanced back and shrugged. 

“Just making conversation.”

With that, Janus freed his hand by generously donating his glove to the child, who immediately put it in his mouth. Two hands went under his arms and the child flew into his arms, balanced against his chest as he petted its hair. 

“Do you want clothes? I bet you want clothes, don’t you?”

“I advise you to change it first.”

“Of course, he’s probably been in the same diaper for hours now.” He kissed the child’s hair and walked back into the (now lit) nursery. “Poor little prince. Logan, go get Patton?”

Logan let a breath out as he headed down the stairs. It seemed Janus had forgotten his anger. 

“By the way, you’re grounded for stealing my lockpicks,” he called after the teenaged side. 

Well, fuck. 

* * *

Janus stood in the room for a minute, just looking around. It had been so long since he’d held a child so small in his arms. The weight was small, but so heavy. Warm, too, and so soft. 

The child whined and reached up for his face. Janus took his hand, bouncing lightly as he stroked the tiny, chubby fist with his thumb. “I know, I know my sweet, I know, give me a moment, okay? We’ll get you dressed.”

Footsteps came thundering up the stairs. Patton was immediately in the doorway, the rabbit in his hand and confusion on his face. 

“Patton,” he said softly, “do you remember how you’re better at parenting than me?”

Of course he did; it was the whole reason living in the basement didn’t work out. 

Patton didn’t say anything. He set the rabbit on a nearby chair and reached for the baby. The child melted into his touch, despite no doubt being ridiculously uncomfortable. 

“I’m not better at it than you,” Patton told him firmly. “We just do it better together. Care to join me?”

Janus smiled. “Indeed. But only if you’ll do… this.”

Patton chuckled. “Glad to, kiddo. See if you can find the fresh ones?”

Changing the baby took a few tries, as it had been a while since either of them had done this. Further complicating matters (apart from the fullness of the diaper and the beginnings of a rash) was the fact that the child was far more… kicky than any of his predecessors. He also enjoyed grabbing the sleeves of Patton’s cat hoodie when he wasn’t occupied with the now very damp glove in his mouth. 

“You’re an active little guy, aren’t’cha?” Patton chuckled, trying to get the tapes down. “Now, why didn’t that stick?”

“Here, I’ve got this.” Janus craned around and taped the thing closed. “Hey, do you think he has a name?”

He’d give the experience this- he was glad it settled once and for all that the prince was indeed a prince. 

“Uh- pass me a wipe first, I can’t think like this.” He held up his hands helplessly, which were covered in diaper cream and powder. 

Janus obeyed, once again enjoying the luxury of having six arms. Another was not having to give up the hand the child was holding onto, which-

“Wait, hang on, the bracelet. We’ve got a name.” He leaned close as Patton wipes his hands clean. “... I can’t read upside-down.”

Patton giggled and turned to read it. “... his name’s Roman.”

Roman made a baby noise upon hearing his name. 

“Hii, Roman,” crooned Patton, picking him up. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Did I hear voices in here?” Asked a voice from the doorway. Then there was hesitation. “... oh. New guy seems boring.”

“The new guy isn’t ambulatory yet, so that’s to be expected. Hello, Remus.”

Remus blinked. “Nerd was wrong about something?”

“Don’t be mean, Remus.”

“But it’s the one thing I’m good at!”

At the sudden increase in volume, Roman whimpered and reached for Patton, who picked him up without missing a beat. 

“Aw come on! That wasn’t  _ that  _ loud!”

“Actually, I… hang on a second, kiddo.” Patton offered the baby a knuckle, which he sucked frantically, wailing when his efforts did not yield in food. “Ah! That explains it, someone’s hungry. Jan, you remember how to fix a bottle?”

“Uh… vaguely.”

“Mmh, me too. Remus, hold him while we figure this out, will ya?”

Patton deposited the baby in his arms before he could protest, and with that, he and Janus were both gone, leaving him alone with the baby. 

“... really?! You both think  _ this _ is a good idea?!” He called from the top of the stairs, though his voice was more fear than indignation. 

“You’d never really hurt him,” Patton said confidently. 

Janus stopped on the final step, turning to make meaningful eye contact with the duke. 

“ _ Would _ you?”

There was no threat in his voice. Just a promise. 

Remus shook his head. 

“Good. Now hold him close to your chest, one arm under his butt, the other on his back. Good, good.”

And with that, Remus was alone with the new Creativity. 

* * *

Let me just say, this was  _ not  _ what Remus was expecting when the door promised him “a prince.” He’d expected someone young, sure. Thomas was new to creativity, so a young prince was a given. 

But jeez Louise, he’d expected like, eight or nine, maybe six at the youngest. Not a prince of pampers!

Virgil passed by the open door and curiously peered in. He and Remus locked eyes, stilling for a moment. 

Remus helplessly offered him the baby. 

“Yeah, nope. Sorry pal, that one's on you.” And then he was gone and Remus was pissed. 

He held the baby uncomfortably in his arms, uncertain of what to do. Was he supposed to sit down? The kid was so damn squirmy. Also naked. 

“Listen, kid, I’m all for eating in the buff, but Whaddya say we see what kind of clothes you got, huh?” 

The baby resting against his chest didn’t reply. He finagled him into some kind of a cradle as he rifled through a very ornate wardrobe (Christ, what baby needs a fucking wardrobe?) and selected a few things he thought he could realistically put him in. A little white and red tunic with gold shoulder thingies (“we gotta get you some variety, kid,”). The texture was nice, so he decided it would work. He didn’t like that Roman would be in just a tunic and a diaper, so he quickly searched a nearby chest-of-drawers for pants. A little black pair of stretchy pants that weren’t too tight quickly rewarded him. 

“Alright. Now the challenge is dressing a baby.”

And oh, a challenge it was. Roman went into the tunic just fine, even reaching his little hands through the holes, but the pants? Forget it. His little feet wouldn’t stop kicking, and he didn’t seem interested in being down on his changing table any longer. He wanted to be held. Why, Remus didn’t know. Didn’t he know Remus wasn’t Janus or Patton? Didn’t he care?

“Okay, a no-pants kind of guy. I can dig that,” Remus finally decided. He let the pants lie forgotten, and picked up the little nightmare in his arms once again. “You know how easy it’d be to kill you?” He asked in a much softer tone than normal. 

Roman stared at him with those big, brown eyes. Tiny fingers reached up for his moustache, which Remus caught and held. 

“Yeah. Could just drop you out that window over there. Be super easy. Little baby stain right on the pavement. Or I could just kill you by holding you wrong. Just by accident. Isn't that something?”

Roman made a soft cooing noise. 

Remus gave in and grinned. “Aw but why would I do that? That'd be a dumb thing to do, huh? Would that be silly?” He nuzzled the kids' mess of hair as he continued making happy baby noises. It was almost like Laughter Lite. 

It was a good feeling, making Roman laugh. Not as good as having endless conversations about Thomas’s creative prospects, or a rehearsal partner for Dee, but hey, a little buddy to admire how cool he was was also cool. 

Roman whined softly, looking up at remus. 

“ _ What?! _ What could you  _ possibly _ want now?!”

He gestured with his free hand, only for something to appear in it. He looked, and realized he was holding a sparkly, dark blue pacifier with Ariel’s picture on it that he hadn’t been holding before. Confused, he slipped it to the little guy, who accepted it eagerly. It bobbed frantically in his mouth as he looked around. 

“You can make stuff too, huh?” He asked the child. “I can do that too. See, I can do this.”

He summoned a pair of scissors and stuck them in his ear. Roman didn’t seem moved. 

Remus shrugged, dismissing the fantasy. “A little too advanced for you. Don’t worry, you’ll get… somewhere.”

Where, exactly, Remus wasn’t certain. Why did Thomas  _ need _ two creativities? What did roman provide that he didn’t?

It looked like they’d have to find out. 

“Am I interrupting?” Asked a voice from the doorway. Patton was standing there with a bottle. “Aww, you found him a little shirt! That’s so cute!”

“Yeah, well let’s see if he throws up on it.”

“Now, kiddo, I’m not totally incompetent, I do know how to feed a baby.” He sat in the rocking chair, and took Roman from Remus’s grasp. Roman spat out his pacifier and immediately latched on, suckling on the bottle hard and fast as Patton rocked gently. Remus ignored the pang of jealousy in his chest. 

“So… this is… new.”

“Yeah, a lot’s gonna start changing,” agreed Patton, stroking Roman’s hair as he ate. “But it’s nothing the coolest family in the entire Thomas-sphere can’t handle, right?”

“I’m not so sure, Peré, this kid’s made of pure imagination. You’re essentially holding a god baby.”

Patton pinched a chubby little toe. “The cutest darn god I ever saw!”

“Daaaad,” moaned Remus. 

“Whaaaat?” Patton playfully parried back. 

“You’re holding a potential ultimate destroyer!” Remus complained, though he was grinning. 

Patton held up the baby as best he could. “Does that look like the face of a destroyer to you?” He returned to snuggling the little package in his arms. “He’s just a big ol’ pile of love~!”

“I’m not sure that’s love that you’re smelling.”

Patton giggled. “This is gonna be a big adjustment for all of us, Squiddo. But the one thing that’s never gonna change is that I love each and every one of you.”

“Even me?”

Patton’s smile dipped into a more serious expression. 

“Of course. Always. I promise.”

Remus felt himself relax. A moment later, the bottle came up empty and a rag was draped over Patton’s shoulder. 

“Ohhh goodness, somebody was  _ hungry,” _ he crooned, thumping him on the back a bit. 

“We gotta fell Thomas.”

“Later. He’s got enough to worry about. For now, let’s just enjoy this.”

The baby lay half sleeping in Patton’s arms, completely unaware of his role as a side, or how powerful he was. The boy and his father sat in hushed silence as Virgil was smugly right, Logan was grounded and Janus rehearsed. Meanwhile a newly made rag bunny watched from the armchair, a careful sentinel standing guard over her tiny royal charge. 

What would come would come, and whatever came, they would all be ready. 


End file.
